Agamemnon's dilemma
by Rhaegal Nymeria Stark
Summary: A great General is left a choice; sacrifice his child to benefit his army and secure his success or lose the war. Someone far more clever than Artemis is giving Voldemort a such a choice. But does she really intend to harm the sacrifice? Sort of a prequel to "Scarred lover" and talks about the events of Deathly Hallows, hinting at "Surreal." Implied future Bellamione


Disclaimer: Own nothing

Summary: A great General is left a choice; sacrifice his child to benefit his army and secure his success or lose the war. Someone far more clever than Artemis is giving Voldemort a such a choice. But does she really intend to harm the sacrifice? Sort of a prequel to "Scarred lover" and talks about the events of Deathly Hallows, hinting at "Surreal." Implied future Bellamione

**Agamemnon's dilemma: **

Muggle literature wasn't something he was completely ignorant of. Actually, the catalogue of many reads he had found in the muggle world only provided proof of the muggles' love of war and destruction and why they were no better than filth and animals. Many of the literature he had looked through as evidence of the lowly nature of muggles was the literature of the Greeks and Romans. One particular irony that amused the Dark Lord to no end was that the Greeks and Romans were so hateful of women, yet they worshipped goddesses like Hera, Athena and Artemis. Funny, wasn't it? Voldemort was no stranger to how society treated women, and he wholly agreed with the pureblood society's view on how women were to be treated within their world. Pureblood women were to have their place in the magical world. They were not to have jobs, not to question their husbands or fathers, they were to obey. Voldemort latched onto this belief at a young age (in fact only at age 14) as he, with such a strong conviction chose to follow in the footsteps of his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin and teach the ways of purebloods, keeping women from stepping out of line, wiping the _filth _from their world referred to as "muggle-borns."

One odd occurrence that he never could have predicted was encountering a beautiful pureblood woman who spit in the face of the traditional "place" of all pureblood women and had insisted upon being in his army as one of his Death Eaters. Bellatrix Black had been her previous name. When he had first met her, it was Bellatrix Lestrange, due to her marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange.

She had only been twenty-six years old when she had first approached him, head high, posture proud. Something that the Dark Lord had found strange had been the absence of children in the Lestrange Black household. He knew that Cygnus Black III and Druella Rosier had pressed upon all three of their daughters to marry young. Bellatrix had done just that….kicking and screaming.

She had married Rodolphus at the age of twenty. The tale of the temper she had thrown and curses she had catapulted at the wedding guests was an infamous tale indeed. One that Voldemort needed to confess, brought him great amusement. But that left the mystery as to why the two had no children to speak of. While it was well-known to almost every pureblood that Bellatrix abhorred her husband, there _were _certain expectations of her. Rodolphus claimed that there was sex, though Voldemort was certain that the oldest Lestrange brother enjoyed it far more than the oldest Black sister did. And still, no children. Bellatrix's youngest sister, Narcissa Black who at the time of Bellatrix confronting Voldemort, had been twenty-two, who had been confirmed to be married in a year to Lucius Malfoy and having sex before marriage was unthinkable, let alone having a child before marriage, so at least the golden haired sister had had a reason, but Bellatrix and Rodolphus?

Then Voldemort had heard Rodolphus _and _Cygnus Black's complaint about Bellatrix. The pureblood woman, though beautiful, was _infertile_. It wasn't that the raven haired woman didn't want children or decided not to, she _couldn't._ This had triggered a misconception for Voldemort. He had thought that that meant that Bellatrix's reasoning for joining the Death Eaters was because she felt unfulfilled. And he was right, but not for the reasons he thought he was.

Bellatrix had felt unfulfilled but not because of any lack of children. No, she wanted to join the Death Eaters for a reason far more satisfying to hear than that. It was because she wanted to feel like she was more than "just a woman." She wanted to prove she was not just equal to the men of her world but _better._ She had been willing to do whatever it would take to do it. Voldemort decided to give the twenty-six year old Bellatrix the mark as soon as he had heard that. He still wasn't sure why. There had just been something in those sapphire eyes that compelled him to make her one of his soldiers.

And now today, standing in front of Hogwarts where he, Bellatrix and several other Death Eaters had once attended in their teenage years, the courtyard in ruins, students and many of his Death Eaters injured, Bellatrix Lestrange stood next to him now as his most trusted Lieutenant.

So it was a strenuous dilemma he was left with when the heir of Slytherin heard the proposition to "hand Bellatrix over" in exchange for a platoon of witches and wizards getting out of the way and letting Voldemort and his followers completely ransack and take over Hogwarts once again.

What was even stranger was the person telling him what the proposition was in the first place.

While Voldemort knew that muggles were inferior beings, he had to praise such creations such as Artemis, goddess of the hunt. He didn't believe in women having independence; that was laughable, but he had to confess, much like Bellatrix, he admired the goddess's bloodlust-her drive and her immediate merciless judgment that she passed on those that crossed her. It was truly a thing to respect.

So it struck the Lord to start questioning his sanity when he almost imagined this mudblood woman, Hermione Granger as the same as Artemis. In fact, as she stood before him, standing as proudly as Bellatrix herself had all those years ago at the age of twenty-six, head held high, eyes forward in command, he almost imagined that she _embodied_ Artemis. Those defiant, complacent brown eyes, the warrior like posture, the tilt of the mudblood's head that reminded him again and again of his own Lieutenant. It seemed strange that she would be offering to get out of the way and let him pass, as long as she receive Bellatrix as payment, that was until he remembered what the Black heir had done to the little brown haired witch at Malfoy Manor and later the Black Manor.

Well, that explained everything, didn't it?

He had heard about what was done to the little piece of filth once she had been captured by the snatchers and after Potter and the Weasley boy had gotten away. It had exhilarated him. Now he was trying very hard not to laugh. It looked like the little mudblood could bite _back_. It looked like the mudblood had some bloodlust of her own. How…delicious.

At first, the Dark wizard considered this a mockery. A mudblood trying to tell _him _what to do?! Trying to get him to agree to _her _wretched terms? It was enough to disgust him. But he hadn't gotten this far by being ignorant about strategies or making decisions affecting war. All of his Horcruxes, save for Nagini were destroyed. Potter had died and yet seemed to keep coming back (bloody, did that boy ever actually _die_?!). Helga Hufflepuff's goblet, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, his childhood ring and diary and the locket had all been "slain." Nagini was the last living, stable, _whole _one.

Voldemort, without meaning to, took a glance down at his feet where the protracted, profuse body of his longtime reptilian companion lingered, flicking her forked tongue out into the air every now and then as if to jest at the students before them for her master's sake.

No matter how much it repulsed him to admit it, but Voldemort _had _to take the mudblood's offer into consideration.

Now once the resurrected wizard eased his initial and remaining horror at having to do business with this filth, he saw an opportunity as well as a problem. Was he truly about to sacrifice his Lieutenant? His _most faithful_? He sent a glance to his only woman Death Eater and yet his most effective soldier and watched her expression as she heard the brunette's statement. He saw the haughty look overtake her pallid face. Naturally, she never believed for a moment that he would give her up, did she? Oh, she was called his "most faithful," for a reason, wasn't she?

As any wise General would, he had to analyze his options carefully. The blockade between him and Hogwarts was a serious one. Even with as many Death Eaters with him as he had, all the Aurors, all the students, including many Slytherins, professors, wizards and witches from different countries, centaurs, and _yes_ many House Elves as well were all rallied against him. If he didn't take advantage of this chance, he might not gain control again. And if he really wanted to confess, the fact that the mudblood wanted _revenge_, proving that she was no better than the people she fought against filled him with a remarkably pleasurable thrill. But then, he should be used to the hypocrisy of muggles and mudbloods by now, shouldn't he?

Then he looked back at Bellatrix and observed her. She was his closest and most devoted follower. He wasn't unaware that she was in love with him. She never hid it…..well, she never hid it that well. Thankfully, he had seen good to _indulge _her infatuation every now and then. Anything that increased her loyalty to him after all. However, all passions and receiving sexual pleasure in hopes of earning more loyalty to one's master aside, he had practically raised this woman. Against her blood father and blood mother's abuse and domineering opinions on the matter, Bellatrix had rebelled and chosen to become a Death Eater of her own free will and Voldemort had taught her everything he knew. And he trusted her with everything, even trusting her with the secret of the Horcruxes, even giving her one, confident that she could keep it safe in her vault at Gringotts. (But that had been proven wrong too, hadn't it?)

But he had trusted this woman, taught her, witnessed her devotion to him and her drive to wipe out all mudbloods and half-bloods, ultimately purifying the witch and wizarding world of garbage like this witch before him, daring to defy him. How much of himself would he lose by giving Bellatrix up to this witch?

His mind wandered on the entertaining idea that perhaps he was in love with Bellatrix as well, but knew that that ridiculous. No, he was fond of her, that he knew, but that and nothing more. And she certainly was useful, that was clear. In that moment, his mind traveled to thoughts on another Greek myth he had read the year before first entering Hogwarts. The myth about the General Agamemnon and his daughter Iphigenia. Agamemnon, a Greek General was at war with the Trojans, and needed to sail his ships. The problem was that there was no wind to guide Agamemnon and his army to Troy in order to fight. The goddess Artemis offered to send wind so that Agamemnon's ships would be sailed to Troy, but for a price. Agamemnon had to sacrifice his own blood daughter for that wind. Voldemort was not Agamemnon. This mudblood absolutely was not a goddess and Bellatrix was of course not Iphigenia. The pureblood lacked all the innocence that Agamemnon's daughter held in her soul. Oh, Bellatrix was not his daughter. Her desire for him would take complete perverse meaning if she was, but to a certain extent, the comparison fit. She had relied on him for years-on his tutelage and he praised her, admiring her rage and strength, delighted at seeing her kill, maim and torture at every chance she got. Oh, she came close enough. She was his disciple, his student, the result of his motivations and power. He had taught her so much more than any professor at Hogwarts had.

The increasing weight of the pressure, wondering what he was to do with this grand occasion, but terrible possible outcome repeated itself in his hairless head as he thought and considered.

But the decision was made when he questioned himself: if he did make this choice, and he invaded Hogwarts, securing more of his power, just what use would he have of Bellatrix once he won the war and took over? Realizing that his choice was made, Voldemort turned to Bellatrix, and told her in a sorrowful tone that she had been nothing but faithful to him and a useful, loyal soldier for years, but now he had to sacrifice her for his own legacy and for the sake of all purebloods.

He supposed that he should feel some semblance of regret at the look on the black haired witch's face. First was the shock that lasted for what appeared to be almost five minutes, then pain, fear, hurt and finally betrayal.

As the other Death Eaters took hold of Bellatrix's arms and dragged the protesting, shrieking witch over to the mudblood, Voldemort nodded, understanding that as any General, he had to make what looked like problematic decisions for his people. Agamemnon had to do the same for his people at Artemis's offer. His price just happened to be his own daughter. Voldemort's price happened to be his most devoted follower and student. The outcome would be worth the sacrifice. When Bellatrix was bound in magical restraints next to the mudblood, apparently unaffected by Bellatrix's shrieks and hateful roars, sending every derogatory word known to man at the brunette, the mudblood nodded, gesturing for Voldemort to pass through as she moved out of the way with the captive Bellatrix and all of the soldiers at the brunette's back parted ways, allowing the Dark Lord and his army to pass through.

Before Voldemort moved away from the mudblood, he looked at her and said, smirking, "And the great General Agamemnon makes his choice and sacrifices one of his heirs."

There was confusion in the mudblood's brown eyes before they lit up with understanding.

"You are no Agamemnon, Voldemort." The brunette remarked, head held high again, voice revealing no fear of saying the darkest wizard in the world's name, "And don't call me Artemis. I'm no goddess. I just wanted your Iphigenia. Considering I'm more than likely going to die a horrible death soon anyway, I might as well enjoy taking my revenge."

Voldemort almost laughed. So he had been right. Yes, he had been told this piece of garbage was a well-educated piece of garbage. Naturally, she would know of the Greek myths and legends, including the one of Agamemnon and his daughter. No, this stupid girl was no goddess, far from it. And her deal with him would be her undoing.

Voldemort gave her an eerie grin one last time and turned back to the entry way of the inside of the concealed Hogwarts and walked between the students and the rest of the gathered army, eying each individual in the party carefully. He observed them, delight and exuberance ruling him when he saw all of the students watch him with fear and then lower their heads, giving up. This was as it should have always been. He was Lord and their Master. It was time all in the witch and wizarding world accepted that, and filth like mudbloods, half-bloods and muggles were to be put in their place. As he and his troops reached the archway of Hogwarts, the bald wizard now becoming suspicious when he saw that literally _all_ of the students, professors and other warriors had abandoned the vicinity. Only then did the great Slytherin General, still standing proud, still ignoring the vicious, fanatical screams of his former Lieutenant behind him as he understood that he had been arrogant and that something was terribly wrong.

Agamemnon's ships were about to be reefed and shattered against the jagged edges of stones sticking out of the black waters, their ends embedded deeply in the sand lurking beneath the treacherous waves.

A chorus of cries sang out in the dark haven of the cavern of Hogwarts, "Fiendfyre!"

Multiple streams of yellow hot flames taking the shapes of all kinds of beasts; snakes, phoenixes, wolves, spiders, horses, eagles, tigers, dragons, stags, bears, lions and the like careened out from the pitch black castle, illuminating the previously shadowed structure, revealing a large group of Aurors that had been hiding.

Panicked and horrified screams rang from the lips of the Death Eaters at Voldemort's back, and Voldemort almost bellowed in shock and yes, though he would never say it, fear.

He backed away, not quite believing that he'd ever do it again after gaining the Elder Wand, but the shock distracted him. Suddenly reminded that he still had the Elder Wand in his possession, the Dark wizard clasped it in both of his hands, lifting it above his head and snarling out his defense spell.

Sickeningly green light protruded from the tip of his wand, firing into the fiery mass of clawing, howling beasts, combating them. Voldemort felt a chilling grin stretch out onto his ashen face when a determined voice cried out, "Avada Kedavra!"

A flood of green light, identical to the color of the spell that Voldemort wielded himself hit the Dark Lord's back. Voldemort stiffened for a moment, eyes wide and then collapsed as his world went black.

The last thing he saw before his vision faded was the brunette mudblood Artemis standing over him, staring down in accusation.

"Bellatrix is mine now, General. I'm going to take care of her. I won't let people like you ever hurt her again." Was one of the last sentences he heard sneered out before he felt the chillingly cold fingers of death grip him.

The other was Potter calling out, "Ron! There's the snake! Kill it now!"

**Okay, I know that that was probably pointless, however, given my love of Greek mythology, just wanted to put that in there. This is after the events of "Surreal," being part of the Deathly Hallows. So yeah, Hermione had a reason for having Voldie hand Bellatrix over. Not really sure where I was going at first so no flames please.**


End file.
